


burnt, about to burn

by narramin



Series: Promtober 2019 [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 03:23:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20885315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narramin/pseuds/narramin
Summary: The ashing, as Sanji had called it with a snort, got heavier as the Sunny approached the island, maneuvering through the circles of reef and waves, Nami and Franky easily managing the current. There was no mistaking the smoke now, with its acrid smell twisting their noses, making breathing hard and uncomfortable.





	burnt, about to burn

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks goes to Julia, [@shishiswordsman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shishiswordsman/pseuds/shishiswordsman), for covering my ass where English grammar was kicking it.
> 
> Promtober day 3 - Burn. The timeline is sometime after Water 7, if they had taken another route before Sabaody and Thriller Bark.

They didn’t realise it was smoke at first. 

Only Nami did, in a way - she was brilliant like that. She just frowned a little bit, muttering it couldn’t be a simple fog, not even on the Grand Line, and turned to fetch some maps from her cabin. It couldn't be, not looming over a summer island, not with the humidity so low. Not with the Log Pose nervously ticking like that. Always a bad omen. 

It was strangely beautiful from the Sunny, a mirage of an island, white tendrils of thick mist curling around it, blocking the harsh sunlight; deceptively innocent. Usopp and Chopper, missing the look on Nami’s face, marveled at it, at the soft outlines of its shore, the glittering maroon reefs surrounding it; dangerous for a crew with a lacking navigator, nothing but fun for a crew with a good one. They gave enthusiastic yells, running up and down by the railing, getting into a mock-fight for the spare spyglass they kept close to the main mast. The real good one was up in the crow’s nest; Sanji was there now. Three weeks of monotone sailing was enough to make pirates and sailors alike glad to see any solid land; let alone a wondrous one like that.

Mid-motion, about to snatch the spyglass out of Usopp’s hands, Chopper abruptly coughed and sneezed, thrice in quick succession, and stopped laughing. Looked up, with his reindeer nose scrunching, to the skies. There was something in the air he noticed now, slowly descending, like snow, but that couldn’t be right; it was too warm, it smelled too sharp.

It was ash; softly flying in the air, obvious now. It slowly dirtied the green lawn covering the deck, painting the sails and the tops of the masts grey and haggard; chased by the warm breeze, it looked disconcertingly serene. 

The quiet rang louder than the laughing before. Zoro, previously napping on deck, curled against the mast and his swords, looked up. Usopp and Chopper both tried to catch his eyes, hiding their unease. 

He got up, quiet, tracing Wado’s now-grey, ashy curve, eyes hard. “Get Luffy,” he said, nodding towards the crow’s nest. Luffy had gone up with Sanji and Robin, then roped Franky too into playing cards with them; last time they had heard from up there had been a loud yelp from Sanji when Luffy had poured tea all over them, cackling with delight at something game-related.

Usopp nodded and went, expression serious, grabbing his slingshot on the way; not caring if it would make climbing up harder. Chopper returned to his cabin, muttering something about checking his medical supplies.

A few minutes later they were all gathered on deck by the railing, Luffy standing tall on the Sunny’s lion figurehead. The ashing, as Sanji had called it with a snort, got heavier as the ship approached, maneuvering through the circles of reef and waves, Nami and Franky easily managing the current. There was no mistaking the smoke now, with its acrid smell twisting their noses, making breathing hard and uncomfortable. The sparse woods on shore barely shimmered through the thick, sick grey of it, their green on the mountainside barely visible, more shadows than anything else.

The south-side port, or what was left of it, was hard to make out. Visibility was very low now, with the ash and soot tainting the air, and with their eyes watering from the pungent, greasy smell. 

Black, charred ruins and wood greeted them where the village and the port must have been, most piers collapsed into the foamy water, only some wooden screpes signaling they had ever been there. What little remained of the harbour master's station was still half-standing on two of its thin pillars. Ember was still eating its way through them, hungry and nasty, uncaring for their history. 

“Why did it look so white before?” Sanji wondered aloud, a frown on his face as they approached what was left of the place. He had caught sight of the island from the nest, too; now it was black, grey and nasty-looking, nothing like what they had seen before. He'd lit a cigarette before, back on the Sunny; only to be forced to spit it out once they'd reached land, coughing hard.

Nami shot a look at him. “It’s the soot,” she said, checking if her clima tact was secure on her belt, “when air is this dry it doesn’t stick to the ash, stays low. Makes the smoke look like white fog or mist from a distance.” She did not add that she had seen this before, living worse times, as part of a worse crew. 

Luffy and Zoro, having taken vanguard as usual, easy and in synch, stopped a good 20 meters before them at a big sign, where the ruins started, Luffy looking back at them expectantly. Zoro turned his head to the side and spat on the ground; his tongue numb and tasting of something greasy and disgusting. His bandana didn’t do much to cover his face, unlike Luffy’s prized hat. He looked as though he had wept black, dirt sticking into his pores. Nami knew that she probably looked the same; she knew that Sanji and Robin, the only ones who'd joined them to explore the island, probably did, too; Robin having lost her cowboy had recently. Being dirty would have disgusted Nami normally; now she didn't care much. 

The once-probably pristine sign was charred but still mostly legible. _ Port Town,_ the upper text had said. Not exactly a unique name; almost every island they had been to so far had had at least one glorified village called that. 

_ “Welcome to ---aro," _ the smaller text partially informed them, also nothing new. They were told this would be the next island; small, sleepy and unspecial, except for their apparently one-of-a-kind method of painting silk shades of pink and white and blue; a famous shoemaker that an old but very lively grandmother on the previous island had suggested Nami to visit, explaining that this had been where she got the soft red boots she’d been wearing for the past 40 years, still going strong, and that Nami should try and buy new ones there, a suggestion that Nami had thanked her profusely for; and a meal containing spicy rice and meat and a sweet edible flower native only this island. Luffy had grinned when he’d heard that, and Nami had practically seen Sanji sigh and make a mental note to try and sweet-talk the recipe out of a local.

Nami, looking around and seeing their burnt surroundings, coupled with Luffy’s grim expression now, doubted there’d be any flower eating soon.

“Probably a pirate raid,” Zoro said, wiping his face. Luffy and Nami both made a sound in agreement. Robin didn’t; she seemed to be deep in thought. 

“There is no need to raid a shithole like this.” Sanji frowned, fighting the urge to spit ash out of his mouth in front of the ladies, but always ready to argue. “What would they even steal? Some shitty flowers? The Karnaca archipelago is only 4 days of sailing away, and they have those orange semi precious stones.” 

“Most pirates don’t need a reason, idiot.” Zoro scoffed, the bandana he wore making the gesture a lot more ominous than it usually had been. Nami couldn’t help but associate it with trouble. “Remind me again what I was doing while your ass was coddled in a resta—” 

“Enough,” Luffy didn’t raise his voice and didn’t even seem to talk to them in particular, but they both stopped and looked at him. “Let’s go.” 

As they threaded through the dirt and ash and ruins, breathing got almost impossible. Nami and Robin pulled a scarf around their faces; Zoro tied the bandana around his mouth in a poor attempt; in an even poorer attempt, Sanji seemed to have taken care of his smoke protection by simply forfeiting further cigarettes for the duration of the trip. Luffy said that smoke didn’t affect him, because he was made of rubber. It didn’t make any sense, but they all knew better than to argue with either Devil Fruit or Luffy-logic. 

The town, more like a village, was completely burnt to the ground, the streets only barely distinguishable from where the houses must have stood; it was almost like someone, or something had turned the debris inside out, had thrown it around after everything had been destroyed. One could definitely not have told the difference between a family home or a cobbler shop. The thought wasn’t welcome.

They saw no survivors, or any signs of life. Nothing, except for the unmistakable greasy stank of burnt flesh, simultaneously nauseating and way too similar to barbecue for comfort, the latter making it especially revolting. Nami resisted the urge to gag, suddenly glad they had left Chopper on board despite his protests. 

In hindsight, she wasn’t happy they brought Robin though; under her scarf, she seemed quite pale.

They stopped in the middle, where the village’s main square must have been, going by the relatively debris-free area and a now half-blackened stone statue of a woman and a child. Must have been some kind of a memorial, or just a decoration, maybe; real stone, probably the pride of the simple village lined with wooden houses. The locals had probably taken good care of it.

“There’s something pinned to it,” Luffy said, stretching an arm to the stone, already flying, Zoro and the rest after him. It seemed to be a single note, on a big sheet of paper pinned there by a chipped dagger, obviously put in place after the destruction had taken place. No paper would have survived what even wood and stone couldn't. It only had a single sentence written on it, ink black as soot:

** A VILLAGE THAT RESISTS ME GETS IT’S DUE - BLACKBEARD**

A beat.

“Blackbeard?,” Nami asked. She chose not to comment on the spelling error. “Isn’t he the man Luffy’s—”

“Brother is after? Yeah,” Zoro said. 

“And now it’s obvious why,” Sanji added, grim. “What are we going to do about it, captain? He can’t be farther than 2 days of sailing away, going by the rubble.” They’d cut it close, of course, with the Log Pose still having to set, but it would be far from impossible. The Sunny was an excellent ship, and Nami was an excellent navigator; a man who’d just recently deserted the Whitebeard Pirates probably didn’t have either. 

The all looked to Luffy, who stood with eyes still on the paper, spine straight.

“Nothing,” Luffy said, voice easy. “Nothing at all. This is not ours to do. Let’s look for survivors.” And with that, he turned toward the woods, steady; no doubt in the set of his shoulders. 

They, as always, followed. 

\----

Only months later, when he yanked a scrap of newspaper with his brother's face printed on it out of a snake princess’ hand on a foreign, strange land, Luffy thought of his words again. 

**Author's Note:**

> :) 
> 
> as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
